Wrecked
by The StripedHatter
Summary: A man is inventing a simple paper game when everything goes wrong. A woman is taking a luxury cruise to meet up with some rather important people, when her ship stumbles across a lost soul. AU set in 1920(ish). Warning: First two chapters have several cuts. T for minor cussing and slightly but not really teen themes.
1. The Island

**Hello. This will be my first full fledged story. I'm not sure how many chapters yet, but it will be more than ten. That I know. Also, I'm drawing a new cover image right now, so it won't be an unrelated photo for too long. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.**

**As always, review and critique. Feel free to suggest ideas as well. c:**

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A board floated across his slowly dying vision, just a mere plank. Holes raged through the wood like a plague. He reached out anyways, grasping the air as if it would propell him closer to the corpse of what he just minutes ago was sailing gloriously on.

After a small bit of flailing around, his pale and bloodied hand shot through the waves and gripped firmly on the plank. Breathing hard, the man hefted himself onto it, finally resting his sore eyes.

.:..:..:.

The blanket of black lifted, his eyes slowly flickering open. As light flooded into his senses, he realized that he was laying on a substance that was both soft and course. When he looked down, he discovered a bed of sand. His savior lay boken to his side.

He dragged his weary body up, stumbling off to find a suitable shelter. While being incredibly thankful for the land he had come across, he had a mild feeling that he may not last long. Something pulled in his gut that told him this was no haven.

Luck bore its wealth, however, when he found something spectacular. A spring, dazzling from the harsh sun through the swaying trees. There wasn't much for vegitation on this island so far, and the man had to drop to his knees to thank whatever deity did this.

Surrounding the fresh water was a bed of lush grasses and a trio of tall trees. Beyond this was only sand and all things dry, so he could only wonder is this was a mirage of some cruel sort. Yet, when he stooped down to test the water, it was all real. Laughing like a mad man, he splashed the clear liquid over his whiskery face and wet his mouth.

After his discovery, the man set up a cabin like shelter, piling driftwood up between the trees and stuffing wet sand and various plants into the crevices. He was hungry, but he felt sleep grip his being and he had no choice but to rest for the rest of the day. In the cool of the night, that's when he would explore. That decided, he curled up and drifted away into a heavy sleep.

.:..:..:.

He laughed, "Gar, you moron. There is no way that this is going to work."

"You doubt me, good sir, Victor," his response came light-hearted, "and I do so wonder why."

HIs companion only rolled his eyes and ruffled his friend's sandy blonde hair. "Well, you have fun with that then."

"Indeed I will."

He finished the last fold of the thin, white sheet with an exclamation of accomplishment. "Ah-ha! See my friend? It is fool proof."

"Does that mean it repells you?"

A deflated look, and then, "Nobody asked you." He just as quickly adopted his previous expression, one of ridiculous and sheer joy, as he fashioned a small triangle of folded paper. "The paper football!"

Victor's face was one of blank skepticism, however his eyes shone with amusement. "Oh, how clever of you. Let's give the man a cookie."

"But it works! See?" He demonstrated by propping the binded paper up with his fingers, using the other hand to flick it at his friend's face. "I will be rich with this invention!"

"One, it's a stupid invention. Two, you already are r-" He was cut off when the room was suddenly jerked to the side.

After giving each other a scared glance, they sprinted out the door and up to the deck. They were met with shouts from the crew, accompanied by salty waves rising from the below. Water sprayed their faces, and impaired everybody's vision.

"Garfield! Were are you going?"

He stopped for a second to turn towards Victor. "I'm helping, you blundering fool!"

.:..:..:.

The man woke with a start, breathing heavily into the night air. "Damn."

Calming his rapid heart beat, he stood shakily to see what the island had to offer. The clear skies bore the moon and a wonderful array of stars. All of which cast beams of light down upon the earth. The eerie glow that resulted was what he used to guide him through the unmarked territory.

He ran a hand through his hair, that in this lighted dark looked a tarnished silver. As the night wore on, he had only managed to discover that the rest of the island was simply bleak desert. _Desert in the middle of the ocean, _he mused, _fancy that_. Sighing, he watched as the sun rose over the vast waters.

It truly was a sight to behold, the sun's rays spraying over the reflective surfaces surrounding him. An tangerine light was cast around him, and it stole his breath.

Soon though, he felt the growing need for food. He turned and headed back, feeling his pockets. Why he hadn't done so before was beyond him, guessing he was just too tired to care. Relieved in a multitude of ways was he to discover that he had not lost his swiss army knife. He smiled and headed off to the pools at the edge of the island; pools that caught the tide.

There he discovered a plethora of two-fist sized fish. He sat on the edge and waited patiently, patiently, patiently.

.:..:..:.

Days passes on regularly like this, and he marked each one into his savior with his knife. Slash after slash, and soon he had to switch to a different board. Then another. And then, another. Days to weeks, weeks to months. He knew that with his poor diet of spring water, fish, and dried seaweed, he didn't have that much of a chance to survive.

The only things he had to occupy himself were excersises like push ups, and simply watching the fish swim by. The time passed rather dully, nothing new _ever_ seemed to happen here. He found that his appearence was less and less appealing as time grew on.

He was counting his tillies, again, by a dying fire when he heard it. A noise, oh glorious noise. He quickly finished his count to eight months and seventeen days, plus the surrent date, and then shoved himself off the ground to sprint wearily to the shore.

What he saw thrilled him to the bone. An ocean liner, a cruise ship. He burst out laughing; it was headed straight for him! "Here!" he yelled uselessly, flailing about. his arms waved frantically in the air, and in responce the boat bellowed out a long note.

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**Next Update: Tuesday**


	2. The Ship

**Chapter 2! So after this, the writing will be much better and less confusing. I'll use names, instead of he/she. Also, things may get confusing in this chapter, but it'll all clear eventually. Enjoy. c:**

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She eyed the men wearily as they carried her bags. In her hands, she twiddled with her black, lace gloves. Forever untrusting, she was told. She had every right to be forever untrusting, she assumed however. Who in her position wouldn't be?

Sighing, she waved the men off when they were done and took off her wide brimmed hat. After she locked the door, she moved to the large arm chair to lounge in the most vulgar way possible; comfortably. She kicked off her shoes ,with minor difficulty, and swung her legs up over the arm. Her skirts cascaded down to the plush, carpeted floors.

Her head lolled back as she basket in the comfort of it all. Her feet ached from the pointed shoes and the stiff material that they were made of. In all honesty, she now officially hated English fashion. What she wanted to wear was her usual robes.

She had to be satisfied, however, that the had been able to personalize the dress. In her complaints, she gained a smaller bustle and silk cloth. Over her black skirt, she was allowed a navy blue drape that hung from her neck and tan down the front and the back, slitting on either side so that the black fabric curved out from it. Over this, she had to hassle for weeks to wear her trademark cloak. A gold-rimmed ruby brooch clipped it in place over her shoulder, and a hood hung down her back.

The main purpose of this trip was to meet with the ambassador's son, Malchior. She was to discuss trade deals with him, however she could tell her mother's ulterior motives. It was, after all, every day that the woman was reminded of her current single state. Twenty already, and hopelessly alone. Pah.

She could go forever alone, for all she cared. Her life was just fine as it was, without wearing herself out. A knock sounded on her door, and she couldn't help but allow a small groan to escape her pale lips.

.

.:..:..:.

Checking herself quickly, making sure her black hair was pinned up securely, she reached for the knob and opened the door slowly. She peered out the small crack between te edge and the frame. In her line of view was two men, each wearing small brooches to signify that they served her.

"Yes?"

"We have come to inform you that the liner will be making a quick stop, as per Captain's order."

"Stop?" she said with a mild bewilderness. "Well, how long will it delay us?"

The two exchanged a quick glance. "We're not sure. It could take any range of time."

She let out a frustrated growl. "Why are we stopping to begin with?"

"Apparently they found a shipwrecked man."

.:..:..:.

Her shoes on again, the woman walked at the fastest allowed pace. Her face was set with a scowl, and she was determined to have a talk with the captain. This would be absolutely no good with her plans.

She pounded her fist on the door.

"You're Highness?" he asked as he opened the door slowly, taking a small bow.

"We're stopping?"

"We are. If you would like, you can come meet the man we're rescuing."

Grumbling, her scowl grew into a face of pure displeasure. "I will."

.:..:..:.

The lifeboat was lowered, holding the captain and three of his men. Along with the woman. She sat with crossed legs, gaze set coldly out into sea. Malchior wouldn't wait forever. She looked over to the island to see a figure, his feet just in the water.

When the boat reached the little lot of land, she was the first out. She looked at the man with intense criticism. He endured it, as if he had people looking at him like this every day. She scowled again, she couldn't read him.

_Well then, let's give him a little test. _She thrust her hand out, palm down and fingers angled towards his shoes. He smiled and bent down, just barely grazing his lips on the skin of her hand. Her quizzical expression only amused him further as he stood straight, smile growing,.

It infuriated her.

"What is your name?"

"Mark, Logan Mark." He answered immediately. She narrowed he eyes, and he added, "Ma'am."

She let a small smile slip. _Ma'am?_ "I, Mr. Mark, am 'Your Highness', to you."

He quirked a brow and bowed, "Your Highness. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

What still startled her was how smooth and young his voice was. With his scraggly beard and overgrown hair, she figured that he would be... well older. She tilted her head just the slightest. "How old are you?"

He looked a little surprised by her blunt question, but he answered swiftly, "I am nineteen, almost twenty."

She allowed only a small amount of her shock to show before she straightened her face. The women decided that this man was mysterious, enchanting. She was intrigued. With a grunt, she turned to the captain. "Were shall he stay?"

"In the crew's quarters."

She raised a brow, "That hardly works. Is there no more vacancy in the guest rooms?"

"I'm afraid that given the fact he has paid for no admittance, he can't have our last room."

"Are you saying that this man was stuck on the island for such a distinct amount of time-"

"Eight months," the man cut in.

"For eight months, and he can't even have a bed to sleep on?" She crossed her arms defiantly. "Is this the compassion you wish to portray? A lack there of?"

The captain was left stumbling over his words. "Well, Ma'am-Er, Your Highness, we have a-a budget, and-"

"Nobody is currently occupying the room now, correct? So you have made no money off of it anyways. I'll pay half the price, if you are so indignant. This man, will. Have. A. Room," she huffed. "Now, let us return back to the ship. Time is wasting."

As she turned, she took note of the crooked grin the man wore. What only made her more proud were the whispered words she heard as she strutted back to the boat, "Damn, what country does she rule?"

.:..:..:.

Back in her room, shoes kicked off once again, she considered her decisions of the day. She was still rather ruffled about her voyage being delayed, but this man would be enough entertainment.

She vouched for him simply for the intrigue he had drawn from her. That and his emerald eyes captivated her, and looking into those forest pools could make her more lost than being in the desert with a blindfold.

It was infuriating.

She remembered the lopsided smile he had given after her bargain on his room, and she felt a wave of heat force its way upon her cheeks.

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**Next update: Wednesday**


	3. The Window

**Okay, so now onto the fun stuff. After this there will be a bit more action and the such. I hope that you're enjoying so far!**

**Also, reviews would be nice. If you have the chance.**

**Later, my lovelies. c: Ciao.**

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Garfield sat on the luxurious king sized bed, back propped up against the wall. The woman that ended up paying for his stay here was interesting, to say the least. A red diamond stone lay in the middle of her pale forehead, shining whenever she turned her head. He had to say, he was willing to learn more about her.

When they returned to the ship, she had demanded him to make himself presentable. She had made one of her two companions give him formal clothing.

His face was shaven, hair cut in a messy fashion, and bathed. He was now dressed in a deep purple suit, almost black, whith a tie hung un-knotted around his neck. A firm, but soft knock sounded from the door, and Gar got up to answer it.

"Tie it." her demand came immediatly.

"But I'm not going anywhere," he quipped.

That was when she sunk in his new appearence. He was handsome and toned, well tanned. His demeanor was... devilish. His deep green eyes sparkled with mischeif, and she had to force her own azure eyes away. He had noticed her attention.

"All the same, you look lazy." She tugged at her cloak. "I wish to talk to you."

He grinned. "Oh? What about?"

She grimaced. "You. Let me in, then. Our discussion awaits."

Quirking a brow, he moved out of the way and shut the door behind her. "This is it?" she questioned. "My cabin is twice this size."

Chuckling lightly, Gar gestured to the small table, a chair on either side. There they sat silently for a bit, until he broke it. "I never quite got your name."

"That is nothing you need to know," she responded quickly, "Mr. Mark. I am 'Your Highness', remember?"

"Still would be nice to know the name of a woman who finds me attractive."

Her head shot up and she fixed him with a glare. "You _were _Staring at me just earlier, were you not?"

She grumbled unter her breath with a small, "Aren't you charming?" Then she sighed. "Alright, _Logan. _My name is Raven Roth,"

"Raven Roth? As in the heir to the throne of Siam?"

"How would you know, Mr. Mark?"

His nosed twitched in a way she couldn't help but find endearing.

He only knew because of the trade deals that Logan Enterprises held with Siam and it's monarch. He couldn't say that though, not while lying about his name. "I used to be current with the news."

In response, Raven only grunted and gazed out the window. He admired the fact that she couldn't care any less about lady like charms and manners, her natural responses unveiling themselves.

"How is it that you can speak such decent English?"

"I've been trained in several languages," she said to the window, "One of which, in turn, being English."

Garfield nodded slowly in understanding. "Got'cha."

"Alright," she said, turning back to him at last. "I have a few questions."

"Shoot."

"Don't tempt me," she grimaced. He smiled cheekily in response, so she decided to start asking. "How did you end up on the island and were you alone?"

He shifted. "I was on a boat when a storm his us. I had a- there _was _a crew of eight men, myself, and my friend Victor. I never saw them again."

"Sorry for your loss, but I caught that slip. Something that you wish to hide from me?"

"Well, no. Just something I wish to not tell you."

She scowled, again he noticed her common reactions, and spoke sourly, "If you wish to show me no gratitude for your comfort, go right on ahead."

He sighed, "Listen, I'm grateful and all. But, I should sort this out. I'll tell you another day; I swear on my life."

Raven's cold post turned tired as she slumped into the chair. "Sure. Next question, I suppose. Shouldn't you be in college or something? The army?"

Garfield chuckled lightly, "College was going to start when I got back from my voyage, six months ago. The army? I've been pardoned."

She gave him a curious look, but he offered no insight. Shrugging, she pulled off her boots and tucked her feet underneath her. It was a task, because of the fashion of the dress she wore. She managed, however.

The day progressed on like this. It was only about four hours, but it felt like longer. She questioned him, and he would occasionaly question her. The conversation was comfortable, and they learned a lot about each other.

For example, he learned that she was sent off for some time to another buddhist location, thus the chakra. Siam didn't generally have chakras apparently, but some other branches of her country's reigning religion did.

She learned, in turn, that he was a vegan and liked cats a lot. _Some people_, she supposed.

The way she opened up easily to this man was startling for Raven , and she couldn't help but feel so annoyed by it; never had she given up so much of her time and background to anybody. The way he accepted her information swiftly and with such graditude baffled her.

"Are you in some sort of politics?" She blurted it out, it couldn't be supressed.

He stopped mid sentence. "Why?" Signature quirk of the brow.

"Your behaviour is so... political like."

"So you think everything I say is lies?" he teased. "Perhaps I am, perhaps not."

She scowled, again, and looked out the window, again. "Your tendencies towards direct answers astounds me," she stated sarcastically.

"I thought it was my fetching looks that accomplished that," he shot back. Gar only smiled wolfishly when a light blush crept up her cheeks.

"Men," she muttered. "I have another question for you."

"Oh?"

"Oh indeed." She cast a quick glance at him. "What was your first thought about me?" Her question was slow and careful, as if she were scared of a certain answer.

Garfield had to think for a bit, back to when he was on the island, watching the small wooden boat come towards him. "Well, my very first thought? 'What is that women so unhappy about and why is she coming out here?'"

A smile tugged the edges of her lips.

"Then when I got a better look at you, I thought you were a little vicious looking. Cold, and unimpressed with the world. You looked like you weren't usually turned down."

With every word she flinched and sunk a fraction of an inch into the chair.

"You had an air of pure and divine power, you bask in the respect people pay you. What really stood out to me though, more than anything else, was how simply stunning you looked. You weren't normal, and neither was that dress you're wearing. You captivated me, in a good way. And I decided that you were absaloutly gorgeous."

He smiled at her shocked expression. "In a good way," he added dutifully.

"Well aren't you blunt?" She couldn't surpress her small smile, though.

"I am, and I'll be the first to tell you that your smile is rediant."

She tried to scowl to hide the smile, but ended up with more of a disgruntled expression. "Can it."

He only laughed in response.

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**Next Update: Sunday**


	4. Desperately Adore

**Thank you for reading so far guys. I promise it gets more interesting. After this chapter, stuff will actually happen.**

**Remember, reviews are encouraging.**

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As the weeks wore on, the two spent more time together, learning as much as possible about each other. Raven was still all sorts of scowls, and Garfield was still all sorts of wolfish, but it was decided that the two evened each other out.

And they like it that way.

It wasn't until two weeks later that the ship docked. Raven was supposed to leave with her guards, and Garfield was supposed to walk away. Neither wanted that.

"Well, Raven." One of her guards made a step forward before she shot him a look then turned back. "Er, Your Highness. Guess this is goodbye, huh?"

"Farewell, indeed," she didn't even try to hide the wistful tone her voice carried heavily. "I would wish to see you soon, but, I can't do that to myself. What to plan on doing after this?"

He sighed. "Well, I'll be going back to Lo- home, I mean." She glared and he shrugged. "Announce that I'm not dead and ready to take on the... stuff."

Raven sighed, "Still dodgy? I thought you were supposed to tell me some day?"

"And I will. I _will_ make sure I see you again. No matter what, I will. I'll sail across the world if I have to, beg to be let into your temple."

The sad and touched smile she offered make his heart do a little twist. She reached up and tenderly cupped his face. "I sure hope so, Logan."

He leaned into her touch a little, shaking his head. Then he took her hand away with his own. "You may not wish that when you do."

Now it was her turn to shake her head. "I swear, I'll always be glad to see you. Upon my heart."

Smiling, he bent down and brought the hand he never let go of to his lips. Again, just like when they met, he just grazed her flesh. He stood straight and gently dropped her hand. "Until next time, Raven of Siam. Your Highness." He bowed then stepped back, only turning after he moved a couple feet.

"And to you, Logan of The Island," she spoke quietly after him.

.:..:..:.

"Garfield!" He was immediately tackled by Victor, a man considerably larger than him.

"Victor! How did you get back?"

"Me? I found a merchant ship just as I was about to pass out. How about you!? You've been gone for about ten months now!"

He sighed, "Well, you know. About two and a half weeks of that was a cruise ship." Victor gaped. "I was rescued, by the heir to Siam. Yeah, after being stuck on an island for eight months."

"You... were saved by a princess on a cruise ship?"

Shrug. "Well, yeah. I guess."

Victor laughed loudly before slowly calming down. "You, my good friend, have wonderful taste. Was she nice?"

An almost unnoticeable red painted his cheeks. "A little."

"Oh, alright then. That's good." A comfortable silence settled between the two.

Eventually, Garfield spoke up. "She thinks my name is Logan Mark."

"What kind of name is _that_?"

"A last minute name!" Gar huffed. "We have strong ties to her nation, I couldn't tell her I'm Garfield Logan. That wouldn't have ended well. But I will see her again and tell her."

"Oh? And how will it end when she finds out who you are. She might end your trade circles. Lying to the monarch? What were you _thinking_!?"

"I wasn't! Okay?" He ran a hand through his hair roughly. "Look, she made a vow to me and I'll make damn sure she keeps it. She won't cut ties, and I'll convince her by any means necessary." He looked up with a tired face, his eyes set with a fiery determination in contrast.

"So how do you intend on finding her again?"

He shrugged. "Oh I don't know. Logan Enterprises could call out to make another deal, interested in investing in fine silks? I am. Her dress was amazing. hat could fork in buckets of cash. Anyways, she responds, intrigued. I show up, looking especially and devilishly handsome. She smiles and throws herself at me in an embrace, then slaps me because I lied. Then she'll invite me in, and a year later, we'll be spending a month away alone on a lovely little island."

Victor raised a brow.

"The end!"

"Uuuuhhhh-huh. Sure, have fun with that then."

" I will." His smile fell, though. "She'll never forgive me."

The taller african american stepped forward to pat Garfield on the back. "She'll get over it."

The blonde scowled and stood straight. "Well, she'd better. Because I won't leave her alone until she does."

"Well, mind if I join you on your fantasy adventure?"

"Hop aboard, though this time we'll get a better ship."

.:..:..:.

After Logan Mark had departed on another ship to take him back to the one and only America, Raven had moved on to her initial business. The meeting with the ambassador and his son went by rather slowly, and not much progress was made.

"But, our loyalties have been nothing but straightforward. We aren't here to discuss allies, Sir Geddes. We are here only to discuss trade. What we do further with our economy is our own problem."

"What my father is trying to point out, is that we would like to know our goods are in safe hands. We are willing to negotiate with a nation that has a falling economy, so long as we know that our funds are solid. If we are sending premium exports, we want the return product just as well."

Raven turned to Malchior, straightening her spine in the process. "Our economy is exceptional, thank you. I'm only trying to point out that Siam doesn't need your approval for relocation of trade."

Both men opened their mouths at once, but Raven cut them off. "And is this truly what we came to- what _I_ came here to discuss? I thought this meeting was for orders."

"Actually, Your Highness is right," Malchior voiced, receiving a look from his father. "Our deepest apologies. We wanted to offer you a new deal, and we would like some supplies for a charity ball."

"Alright then, supplies first. What did you have in mind?"

"We would like to, in honor of your nation and out ties, theme the ball of Siam traditions. We need silks and spices, along with some rice that I have heard such praise about."

"That is it, for a whole event?"

"Well, of course, we could use suggestions."

"Indeed. I shall suggest additions another time, yes? How long until the ball?"

"Five months, this deal needs to be made as soon as possible."

"Timing, forever to be an issue. I'll see what I can do. Now, that deal?"

.:..:..:.

Raven headed out of the room, flicking her hood up above her head. Her face shadowed effectively, she lifted a hand and swatted her fingers as a signal for her men to follow her.

"Your Highness!"

She halted and turned, "Malchior?" Her face alit a bright red at her mistake. "My apologies, Mr.-"

"No, it is alright. Please, call me Malchior. I was just wishing to invite you to a dinner, courtesy of our nation. I have some more topics I wish to discuss."

Raven pulled down her hood. "Oh? Topics such as what?"

"Diplomacy, invitations, boring likeness."

"I may be inclined to accept your offer."

"Alright then, I will meet you at Eighth, quarter past seven?"

A tiny smile fluttered onto her face. "Specific, I like it. I will see you then. And to assure you, any attempt on my life will be in vain, I have friends."

"As if anybody would desire to end your gorgeous life," he teased lightly, bending down to kiss her hand.

His lips had more pressure on her hand then that of Mr. Mark, but she let it slide. This man, his aurora was calming and made her want so _desperately_ to trust him with anything. She wasn't sure she liked it, but that desire seemed to deny her of all thought filtering.

She found she couldn't say no.

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**Next Update: Thursday**


	5. So Animal

**I am such a jerk. _._ I'm so sorry about the super late update. I had some life happenings, but I'll make it up to you. I'll get the cover done soon, and I'll write some more stories. Rather short chapter this time... but I wanted to introduce something without adding in a bunch of random crap. Enjoy! And review... Thanks for the reviews so far!**

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Garfield found himself laying in the sun, pathetically sprawled across the sand. He tried to get up, using his hands and arms in a push-up like manner. He discovered the efforts to be in vain, as he was forced to resort to a crawl. And thus he was dragging himself along.

This wasn't working. He had to forget his vegan vows. He had to eat. With a stream of dry cusses, he stood and headed off to catch himself a fish. This in its own took several minutes, as he still found standing to be rather difficult at this point.

He stumbled, tripping time after time over air. His dry mouth was achingly numb, eyes squinted and burned. The sand caught him, and he went diving to the ground. There he lay once again. He gave up, let this kill him. He welcomed it.

It was only two minutes later that the caving of his stomach was brought to the front of his senses. With a foul word, he pushed himself up again. Alike the last time, it took some effort before he was able to move forward.

A half hour of ragged steps brought him to the clean pool. He fumbled with his pocket for a bit before he fished out the knife. Falling to his knees, he waited patiently for a victim.

For every fish he caught and killed, a new face appeared in his mind. His mother, father, Victor, Tara.

_Enough, _he thought to himself. _Enough killing. _But he found he couldn't stop, and he reveled in the blood flowing across his hands. His mind alighted with a carnivorous trait, and he stabbed and stabbed away.

Fish after fish, he tossed every one in a pile. His mind's protests were blocked out, and his teeth bared. Green eyes darkened with pure blood lust. He brought up a hand, observing it for moments before bringing it closer to his face.

Licking his hand, he found an immense pleasure in the metallic taste. It was bitter, but he managed to find a hidden sweetness in the blood. He brought his hand forth once more, craving the blood of fish like nothing else. A wicked smile crept upon his face, revealing a set of dim fangs.

.:..:..:.

He threw the covers off of his bed, jumping up from his sleep. In a panic, Garfield ran to his private restroom, almost ramming his head into the mirror. He frantically searched his hands; thankfully clean. He faced the mirror and opened his mouth. All his teeth were straight.

With a groaning sigh, he slid down the wall to rest his head in his hands. He remembered killing a fish, he didn't remember that... that beast. On the island... he didn't want to kill those few fish. Never had he been so...

So animal.

He was only left to wonder, where did that _come from_? Never before had he had such urges to devour animal. As soon as he got onto the cruise line, he switched back to vegan tendencies.

This was horrifying. He mumbled under his breath and lifted his head to look around the room. It was posh, modernly furnished. A king sized four-poster bed with a deep scarlet comforter was pushed against the middle of the side wall. On either side rest a black mahogany desk, big enough for an oil lamp and a book.

He had two black and red chairs on either side of a glass coffee table, and he stood up to sit in one. There he slouched, staring off into space without a thought. He didn't want to think, not yet. Yes, he wished to figure out what was going on. But, did he want to relive the thirst for violent feasting? Not really.

When he realized what he was looking at while zoning, he shifted his weight. On his bookshelf was a feather. A raven's feather.

He was five, knees curving around the strong shoulders of Mark Logan. Behind them was Marie Logan, smiling brightly. They were following a thin trail through the woods, one that was traveled by quite often through the trio. Garfield Logan leaned over his father's head when he saw something fluttering in the wind.

_"Daddy! What is it?"_

_ "A feather from the creative and knowledgeable raven."_ He bent down at an awkward angle to pick it up while keeping the child from falling. _"The Native Americans tell tales of the raven. Keep this feather with you, and the raven will bring you light."_

Gar laughed at the memory. He asked around, turns out the old man was telling the truth. More or less. The raven was indeed a bringer of light. If the feather did anything, he wasn't sure.

Now, Her Royal Pain, Raven, had indeed brought some light. He was rescued. She was the reason he hadn't died of ill treatment. When he saw her again though, and she found out his identity was a lie? He wasn't sure he wanted to find out how she would react.

In a simple way, he kind of wanted to be Logan Marks again. Then he wouldn't be sued for false identity and impersonation.

He was pulled from his musings by a knock at the door. He glanced at the clock, ten past two in the morning.

"Garfield Logan? Delivery."

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**Cliffhanger? Hurr hurr. Could be danger, could be a friend. Could be RAVEN! But probably not. ^^ Or is it?**

**Next Update: Monday**


	6. Beyond the Door

**Ahh! This is even shorter than the last one. The rest of the chapters should be longer, though. **

**Right now, I'm trying to write a high school AU, so inspiration is a little weak. Nobody likes high school, it's draining. Until then, enjoy. c:**

**Oh, and the next chapter will hold rather different content. {Nothing crude... for some of you out there that immediately think like that.}**

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She was waiting, waiting for almost an hour now. Why wouldn't he come to the door? Did he not want to find out who lay behind such a barrier as a door? Resisting the urge to let out a deep groan, it would only give her away, she looked behind her to her comrades.

They didn't even give her apolagetic looks. She assumed that there were only two reasons for it. One, they didn't like him in the first place, or two, they knew that if she detected any sort of pity from them, she would have them executed.

She hated feeling weak.

Right as she made a move to stand, the door swung open and a man stepped in. He regarded the host with a nod and searched around the restaurant. When his eyes landed on her, he hurriedly made his way over.

She stood up with a light scowl.

"Terribly sorry, your highness." He bowed deeply, taking her hand. She hurried to draw it back.

"Do I have the pleasure of an excuse?"

"I'm afraid any excuses could never make it up to you."

Raven was growing a little weary. A whole hour late to a conference with the heir to Siam, and he has the gall to dismiss her inquirations?

She offered a small curtsey, more of a half inch movement, before sitting down again. He moved to the other side after pushing her chair in, taking his own seat. Soon after a waiter arrived, and they both ordered. Raven took a meal with more spice, while Malchior's dishes were rather simplistic.

After several moments of silence, Raven waiting for him to speak first, he cleared his throat. "When do you suppose you are putting our orders in."

She eyed him, "I sent a letter out to our export departments at half past five. I have also taken the time to set up a collection of the more... valued spices for you. Not necessarily expensive or rare, simply worthy of attention. Sure to be a favorite."

He smiled charmingly, "Always five steps ahead, I would assume?"

A small smile seemed to creep along her features, but her eyes remained suspicious. "Six, actually." Her quip came easily, and seemed to impress her party.

"Making you a divine ruler." His smile widened as he saw her eyes soften just the slightest bit. "Such traits, I must admire. Goes wonderfully with your alluring appearance."

Even though his words set off loud alarms in her mind, she softened to putty in his metephorical grasp. Her eyes betrayed a hopeless trust, despite her own wishes. She saw in his eyes flashsomething, almost akin to sinister, but she ignored it. Besides, she wasn't sure if it was real.

.:..:..:.

"So, you used to be named Rorek? Why would you change it?" The name sounded familiar to her, put she couldn't quite pin it down.

"My birth name is indeed Malchior, but I assumed a false identity from my eighth year to my eighteenth. I wanted to live the life of a working man, see how it turned out. I actually traveled to a part not all too far from Siam."

A sudden inspiration hit her. "Oh! I know you! Knew you, more rather. You were that farm boy down the street from the temples. I remember now." She paused shortly, "Whenever I would travel by with the monks I was training with, I would see a boy named Rorek out working with the livestock."

His smile was radiant, and she unexpectedly allowed for a small grin. "Hardworking man, you had been."

"I should hope I still am. Remember how you learned my name?"

Amusement slitted through her eyes. "Ah, I asked you one day. How shouldn't I remember? I was curious, but the monks chastised me for months."

"What I shame it was me to cause that."

"T'was of no bother. It lead to sneaking out at night every first of the month. You didn't want to tell me at our first meeting it was you? I would have been much more relaxed."

He shook his head slightly, "No. I didn't figure it a good time."

"Well, I'm glad we are able to reconnect." She smiled softly, "It is good to see you again."

"As it is to see you."

He glanced down at his empty plate and beckoned for the bill. As they waited for their coats, Malchior inquiered for another meeting.

"I am afraid that I shall be headed back to Siam soon," She informed him lowly. "Tomorrow night, my ship leaves dock."

He frowned, and she didn't find it apologetic. "What a shame," he said. "I would have hoped for more bonding time."

She stepped out of the building when her cloak was returned, Malchior following closely. When they reached a near empty street, they noticed it had rained and stopped while they ate and the surroundings were damp with dew.

"Well, then you shall have to visit at some future point." She turned to him with a small smile. Taking a deep breath, she took a daring chance. Raven leaned towards Malchior, giving him a chaste kiss. She was glad to find he didn't resist.

As she moved back to leave, she used words for her parting, "Until next time."

His smile was wide. "Until next time, indeed."

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**Hmm hmm, Leave you not knowing about Gar and a really questionable Malchior? Prepare to be disappointed again, on one account. ^^**

**Next Update: Thursday or Friday**


	7. Patience

**A day late... whoops. To prevent even more disappointment, I think I'll try asking for a couple reviews instead of an exact time that I'll likely miss. Reviews can be good, bad, constructive... anything. Just this way here you won't have to get upset at me for missing a date. ^^**

**Thank you for the reviews so far, they're really helpful and mean a lot to me.**

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It was quite satisfying to see her fall so desperately. She was wary, he could tell, and she would be for a while. It was expected. So far, though, she hadn't seen through a single facade.

Reasearch always pays. After contacting everybody that witch knew, he had a plan so carefully thought through that it was fool proof. He knew her every last secret, even the one he managed to use that conversation. She knew and fancied one such Rorek, so Rorek he became. No one the wiser. It was simple, and it gained him a whole lot of trust.

It takes away a lot of work, actually. A real time saver. Before that morning, he had never met the woman. Now, she assumes they've known each other since they were eight and he had to muse once more, how ever so simple.

His chesire grin matched the gleam in his eyes as he spun on his heel to walk in the opposite direction as Raven. This, he decided, would be glorious.

He had to admit, though, that he felt a tiny prick in his stomach. She was so young and deep down, she was rather... kind. But the witch will get what she deserves. The throne is not one of those things, and he would take her power through any means necessary.

It's his right, with all that has happened to him, to take what he desired. He _deserved_ the throne. The witch was questionable though. Her father's deeds may have been his own, and maybe she was a helpless pawn, but she carried each and every one out herself. The opression was entirely her fault.

He stepped into a toy shop, intent on getting himself a new set. It wasn't until he had browsed the selections for a bit until he found his prize. A dark oak chess board was held in his hand as he picked through the pieces. Satisfied that they were all there, he slid the box shut and made his way up to pay.

Chess, a rather intelectually inducing game. A match requires patience and wit, and thus he was rather suited to it. He did have a hard time finding a decent opponent, but he managed. Often times he would settle with playing on his own.

As he exited the shop, tucking his new possesion under his arm, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It looked like... a cape. The kind that latches in front of the neck, falling towards the ground like a coat.

The fluttering fabric was the colour of the night sky, but as it flapped around the alleyway's corner he swore he saw a dim colour staining the innards of the cloak. It was gone all too fast, and he opted to ignore it. Really, this was a larger city. Who was he to expect to be the only one there?

Behind him, he heard a noise. He looked back only to see the toy shop's door closing, the man who sold him his chess locking the door. Shaking his head, he turned back around and continued on his trek.

.:..:..:.

She was thoroughly bored as of that very moment. After dinner she had walked all the way to her hotel, simply to fall onto her bed. After about a half hour of staring at the white ceiling, she changed into her night gown and curled up beneath the plush covers.

The room was simple but elegant, filled with willow wood and navy blue. She didn't know where Malchior went after their meeting, and she really didn't care.

What she was curious about was what he intended on doing later. Was he actually interested with meeting up with her again?

If all went well in Siam, his trades would be set up tomorrow afternoon and the exports would be shipped off soon after. She would meet up with him then... for such business.

Did he want to see her otherwise, though?

She certainly had her doubts, but she had to entertain the idea that he was in fact at least relatively interested.

Turning over in her bed with a sigh, she nuzzled into the pillow. The navy blue pillow. The room suited her so perfecly, it was as if it were designed for her. Did the hotel know shewould be staying here? Fancy idea, she had to admit. It was unlikely, but still a fun thought.

Fun... when was the last time she had real fun? Probably when Logan took her along for a practical joke on one of the crew members. She acted appalled and unamused, but she could tell he knew better. He knew she rather enjoyed the look on the sailor's face.

He also knew she enjoyed the way the captain glared at him.

A small smile found it's way to her lips at the memory, remembering the way he squirmed under the captain's intense gaze. The way he looked to her for back up.

She had simply shrugged with a, _'And i was supposed to know what he was doing?'_ He had pouted for days after, but eventually got over it.

Growling, she turned over again. She wasn't suppposed to think of Mr. Marks, she would never see him again and it would only bother her to have thought of him knawing at her mind. She closed her eyes and repeated her meditation mantra to clear her head before slowly drifting off into sleep.

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**Next Update: After... five reviews. Good or bad.**


	8. Ties Part 1

**Alright, thank you guys so much for being so patient. With so much crap going on in my life right now, I've had no interest or muse in this. Which sucks... because I love writing. But anyways... here is a short chapter. The second half will be up _very soon I swear. _So be watching.**

**mistysnowrainwindwater ~ Yes, Logan Enterprises is similar. It's a network of business that spans throughout the general area. It's rather well known for the planning, execution, production, and distribution of products. So think of it as... in Batman Begins where Fox has the Bat Mobile and suit previously in store for things like military grade, and also where Mr. Wayne talks about his services as a doctor. Goods and Services around the city. {And power}**

**AlreadyTaken19 ~ Thank you for being an avid reviewer! :3 I definitely appreciate the support. Glad you're liking it so far.**

**Divergent4mockingjay, DxS4ever, Dahkoro5050 ~ Thank you for the feedback, I'll definitely be sure to keep it in mind. And yes, Malchior is naughty little boy. ^^**

**LiumD ~ I ask for reviews because I want to know what people are looking for. If nobody lets me know what they think, I'll never be able to make my writing any better. Also, please keep in mind that any reviews not directly related to the story is considered spam. Thanks.**

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He got up slowly and silently, sliding his way towards the door. Who would walk into a mansion and stop at his third floor door to deliver something at two in the morning? And what would they deliver, anyways? Leave it to the mail! Speaking of which, he leaned over and picked up the letter opener.

He patiently slid down to the bottom of the door and looked through the crack. There was one shadow that stretched back across the hall. Garfield slowly stood up and lightly twisted the knob. Man, the person behind the door was _patient_. He swung the door open, brandishing the letter opener threateningly.

What he saw, though, made him drop it.

.:..:..:.

"Why don't we sit down?"

"What are you doing here?"

She smiled. "Don't answer a question with a question."

"Why didn't you see me when I got here?" Gar let her push him lightly on his bed, and she sat next to him. "Why at three in the morning? Why did you say delivery?!"

"Shhh, you're going to wake everybody up." She glanced around to notice the door was still open. She wouldn't be here long though, no need to close it now. To turned back to Garfield, "I couldn't see you. You were busy and I had work. I'm sorry, but this was the best time to see you."

"Was it really?"

She offered him a sour expression. "Yes."

"There was one more question."

"Ah, yes. Here," she offered him a small box from a pocket hidden amidst the folds of her dress, "from Steve and I. We missed you!"

He looked at her steadily, not answering. Then he took the box and slowly opened it. What he took out were papers and registration to a Tipo 8. "Oh man! A Tipo 8? How on earth did you manage to afford this?" He cringed at his thoughtless words, but she paid him no mind.

"Well, you really could have bought ten of your own, but we wanted to be the ones to get you a car better than your silly Model T. Ever since we took you in, we had been putting a little money away each month. We knew that with your inheritance, it wasn't really necessary... but we knew it come in handy some day." She smiled softly. "Do you like it? It's white and black."

All Gar could do was stare at her in disbelief. "Like it? I love it!" He reached over to give her a hug. "Even after your creepy door visit before breakfast."

She laughed and patted him on the back. "Well, I'd best be off." She stood and started to head over to the door.

"Yeah," he trailed off. "Hey, you two can visit whenever, you know. Any time. Don't even have to tell me... just come. Even if I'm in a mee-"

"Bye, Garfield." She teased him flatly.

He smiled and stood up to see her off. "Thank you. Again and forever."

"Anything for you."

After another quick hug, he opened the door for her. "Bye, Rita."


	9. Ties Part 2

**Well, I lied. This wasn't very soon was it? To be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing with this anymore. I have the plot down, but I'm liking it less and less. So... I think I'll be updating this only when I feel like it and focusing more on other writings. I still have a high school AU I'm working on.**

**~So, the story will be completed at an unknown time. Hopefully I won't be dragging it on too long.**

**~~Also, $172,000 in 1920 is about two million now~~**

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He was totally, irrevocably, indescribably bored. After a couple rushed welcomes, the meeting was launched into action. It wasn't even about interesting stuff either. The business leaders and higher employees chattered on and on about economics. _'Funding needs to be provided,' _this and _'We need to eliminate that company from the chase,' _that. Honestly, give the small businesses a chance.

Do they _all _need to be ambushed? He, of course, did not voice his inquiries aloud. Instead, he sat and listened idly while toying a quarter along his knuckles.

Hair combed back and suit neatly pressed, he felt rather like a stuffed bear. The ones that may be viewed in museums. He was out of place and he knew it. After the harsh reality of the island, he had grown accustomed to the tears in his worn and thin clothes.

He had become accustomed the the dry wind biting through his wild and knotted hair. In the beginning of that time, he had thought that it was wrong. But sitting here now, something deep within him rumbled. _This _was wrong.

"Mr. Logan!"

He snapped back to attention, breaking his slouched posture to sit straight up, as the treasurer gazed at him furiously.

"Are you listening. I would assume, as this is _your _name in the line, that you would be interested."

Gar sighed slowly. "My name is in lights, yeah I get it. This isn't my company, however, not fully anyways. I could imagine you are able to handle yourselves. As you had during my absence?" He cleared his throat. "Oh that's right, I forgot. The board has lost Logan Enterprises 172,000 dollars in investment lately, hasn't it? And in whose absence has this occurred?"

He looked around. Receiving no reply, he tilted his head. "Oh yes, you were all here, weren't you?"

Standing up, he regarded the men around the table with an unreadable expression. "I suggest that you start worrying more about yourself than me? I will work on regaining our stability, as I seem to be the only one competent to complete the task. In the meantime, consider finding yourselves another job." He frowned. "How on _Earth _do you manage to lose so much in _eight months_?"

He stormed out of the room. He had no idea what just happened. Something, though, in the back of his mind swelled with a gleeful pleasure. Somewhere, Garfield _thoroughly enjoyed_ the harsh berating he supplied.

.:..:..:.

Moaning, she slipped farther into the tub. She needed this. She really did. Raven found she was over thinking things. A lot. To clear her mind and relax her tense muscles, she had drawn up a warm bath. She reveled in the scorching water.

Tomorrow she would leave for Siam. Again she would be along a luxury ship, but she assumed it would be boring. As with the beginning of the last one.

No. She would not think of it. It was already eating away at her mind, no need to encourage it. She dismissed her thoughts and closed her eyes, welcoming an emptiness to her mind in place of ponderings. She needed to relax.

And so she did. For nearly an hour she sat in the slowly cooling brass tub. It was when her skin was pruned and the water was chilly that she finally got out. She lazily got ready, slowly and meticulously pulling her hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. The strands pulled at her scalp, but she dutifully ignored it.

Her attire was the usual, and she clipped her cloak around her shoulders with the ruby and gold brooch that adorned her dull uniform. She yawned, raising her hand to cover her mouth as she did. Thank goodness she was alone in the room.

After strapping her shoes on, she stepped out of the room. She wasn't surprised to see two men standing guard outside the door. They were always there. SIghing, she beckoned them along.

Stepping onto the street, she flicked her hood over her head. Her destination was simple. The library. The Bodleian Library. She had heard much about it, and longed to visit the grand structure. Founded in 1602, the architecture was stunning and simply gorgeous. The location was a bit of a walk, but she felt no need for a carriage or car.

Excercise was a practice not often performed by women anymore.

Finally she was graced by the view of a curving archway. Walking through a fence, she marveled at the large entry, taking in the fine details of the stone. The men behind her were patient, and followed along as she slowly roamed through the massive and polished halls.

Elegance and divinity were well portrayed and alluring, and she selected a shelf at random to skim through the thick novels. The musty smells of the pages as she flipped through welcomed her, and she felt so at home.

So at peace.

Taking a stack of four or five books that had peaker interest, she made her way over to a small desk.

She sat and she read. She read on the history of cons that went through great scapes to get what they desired. She started out on a more recent novel, dated three years ago. There were approximately seventy american and british con men in here, each receiving about five pages of description.

At the first page, she started on a less extravagant man, who tried to scheme and murder to gain a fortune that a boy under his care would inherit. Nicholas Galtry, previous attorney to the Logan estate.


End file.
